


Five Months

by raviolitheif



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Body Worship, Bottom Jesse McCree, Clone Sex, Clones, Fake Science, M/M, Piercings, Praise Kink, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 03:38:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10778763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raviolitheif/pseuds/raviolitheif
Summary: there's two hanzos, one jesse and a lot of fluffy sex





	Five Months

**Author's Note:**

> alternatively titled: "the double dragon experience" 
> 
> this fic was an anon commission based on/inspired by a lovely piece of work by cygnii! (which can be found here https://cygnii.tumblr.com/image/158356744406 )
> 
> if you are interested in commissioning me, my email is bublebublepop@gmail.com

It had taken a long time, not only on Jesse’s part but on Hanzo’s too to get used to there being... well, more than one Hanzo. A botched mission involving Lena, a Talon-operated time machine, alternate dimensions, and far too much science for even Winston to handle left Overwatch with one more broody archer than they previously had. Try as they might, no one had succeeded in devising a safe and plausible way to return the second Hanzo to his proper realm, so in the meantime Overwatch would be housing three Shimadas instead of the original two. It had been months now, since the other Hanzo had arrived, and things were finally falling into the category of “almost normal.”

They learned that in the alternate universe that the new Hanzo hailed from, he was still together with an alternate Jesse and they were happily engaged. This knowledge made the cowboy all sorts of giddy, talking endlessly about how he always knew he and Hanzo were fated to be lovers no matter what. This garnered eye rolls and snickers from Hanzo, but he agreed nonetheless, and it left the trio in a state of awkward quietness every time, an almost tangible lull forming in the conversation whenever it came up.

The alternate Hanzo, they found, was still an assassin but of the more formal type, and was well known in his version of their world. As Han continued, they learned that McCree was surprisingly, just a baker. He ran a perfect little bakery with the best sweets in the world, and he was a singer in his free time. Hearing this made Jesse sigh wistfully, a far off, wishful look in his eye. Hanzo rubbed his back and whispered consolingly that they could open a bakery when they retired from saving the world and the assassin smiled warmly, happy that this Jesse seemed so similar to his own.

Sometimes, the alternate Hanzo would be nowhere to be found. When he’d return, it would be with bags under his eyes and a grimace, two gourds at his side and a third in his hand, old tear tracks poorly hidden by a fake smile. They later learned that sometimes it hurt too much to look at Jesse, to hear his laugh and voice and feel his warmth because it reminded him of home. Back home, he didn’t know if McCree was okay, if he still sang or if his voice was drowned by the acrid sting of too much whiskey. He didn’t know if his finacé was still running the bakery faithfully or if the smell of sugar that filled the house had been replaced with bitter smoke and nicotine.

Those nights found all three trying to get him home even sooner.

The research was never enough. One night, the assassin almost gave up. He almost came to terms with the fact that he would never get home again.

Almost.

As time passed and months went by, they learned interesting little tidbits about Han and his world. He was slightly younger than Hanzo and Jesse, only thirty. His Genji had taken over the clan and lead it away from the yakuza hell that it had been, helping Japan instead of hurting it. He and his husband Zenyatta were the faces of human and omnic peace, and the Omnic Crisis never happened; in the crisis’ place, a third and nearly a fourth World War reigned terror over the Earth.

It was how Han lost his legs, McCree, his arm; they didn’t linger on the subject long.

They’d fallen into a kind of routine and were now all winding down together in Jesse’s room after a long day of group training, enjoying smokes and drinks together. Baker McCree came up again, and Han vowed to send Jesse a few of McCree’s recipes if he could manage stay in touch after he made it back to his time. That lull returned, silence falling over them like a hot blanket in the middle of summer, suffocating and uncomfortable.

“Okay, I can’t be the only one with this on his mind,” Jesse finally blurted, breaking the uneasy silence. He looked between both Hanzos and both Hanzos looked back at him.

A long since unanswered question lay between them all, and no one really knew how to approach it. Since the second Hanzo’s arrival, all three of them hadn’t engaged in much of anything. They'd exhausted themselves trying to figure out a way to get him back home, and all of their research left them with no time for anything but sleep, missions, and more research. So now they were sat together in Jesse’s room with all the time in the world and no clear way of how to spend it. Days off usually meant long sessions of worship and praise, sensual baths and intimate evenings between Hanzo and Jesse. But, well, they had a _guest_ of sorts, and didn’t know what to do.

Sandwiched between their calculating expressions, Jesse gulped.

“Enlighten us,” Hanzo said lightly, tilting his head. He shared a long, silent look with his twin. Something sparked in his dark eyes. A pierced tongue wetted pale lips.

“Make sure we are all on the same page, so to speak,” the double elaborated, dark eyes carrying on a wordless conversation with their equally dark twins. Jesse's eyes flickered between the two and he had to calm himself before he spoke up.

“Well,” he began, clearing his throat once he realized that his nerves had started to get to him. This was a bit more daunting than he’d expected. Deep gazes that were equal parts intrigued and cautious snapped over to McCree. He gulped again. “It’s been a few months, and I’m of the mind to say you... uh, _both_ of you might be a lil’ more than a bit pent up.” His gaze flickered between both of them again, and they both stared back. “And I gotta say, I’m a mite bit ready to take care of a few things myself,” he elaborated somehow without elaborating at all. He realized that he was probably stalling. “And, uh, well, he’s basically datin’ me, even if it’s a different me,” he pointed out, gesturing to the Hanzo with shaved hair and a bridge piercing, “which means he probably finds me about as attractive as you do, sug,” he continued, gesturing to his Hanzo.

Han made a deep grunt that sounded like some form of agreement, making Jesse snicker before he could get to his conclusion.

“Before you can ramble on any longer,” Hanzo sighed, shifting in his kneeling position on the bed, “let me attempt to say it in fewer words.” Jesse blushed and nodded, signaling he’d let Hanzo do it instead. “What I think he is saying is that he wants to have sex,” he said bluntly, making the cowboy’s back stiffen and his cheeks grow a shade darker. “With the both of us,” he clarified unnecessarily just to watch his husband squirm.

Something akin to hunger flickered through both archers' eyes, and they both nodded in some form of silent agreement. Flanked on either side by two dragons with thin twin smirks that promised sin and sweet release, Jesse began to wonder just what he’d gotten himself into. His Adam’s apple bobbed and he grinned back nervously, heart rate picking up as both men began to lean toward him. There was something almost intimidating about them, the intensity of their gazes giving way to the presences of the four powerful spirits bound only by ink and skin. The restlessness and desire harbored by the dragons felt like electricity on Jesse’s skin, crackling and whirring over him.

Five months was a long time to be deprived of intimacy. The dragons and their masters would wait no longer.

“N-Now hold on, sweethearts,” he stuttered, hands up in surrender. It took everything he had to remember to make it plural. “Might wanna warn a fella before you go at him lookin’ as starved as the two a’ you do,” he chuckled nervously. He had no idea what the two were planning, and a few ground rules or at least a warning were in order.

Hanzo quirked a brow, turning his attention to his double. The assassin did the same, and soon they were muttering to each other, nodding and discussing in rapid-fire Japanese until it seemed they had formed a plan. Jesse watched on at a loss, only able to pick out a few broken phrases here and there as he was still in the process of learning the language.

“.... Should we... Him? He likes to... Kisses and restraint.”

“A... Wouldn’t be too much... Really? At the same time?”

“Takes pleasure in... Gentle. Are you... if that is okay?”

“Only if you and I... Overwhelmed? No never, how about... And watch us!”

“Break it into two... Next week? Warm him up... be easier.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” the assassin finished with a nod, switching back to English.

“Then it will be done,” sighed the archer. He still had that hungry glint shimmering in his gaze and Jesse was weak for it. Both of the bowmen leaned forward, intruding in on the cowboy's space with hooded eyes and inviting smiles.

“Your husband has informed me that you are not unlike the Jesse McCree that I am familiar with,” the assassin purred, and Jesse was all but hanging on his words already. “The only questions here are for you, not us. Is this okay? Are you alright with both of us tending to you at the same time? Say the word and I will leave.”

“No! No, you don’t gotta leave,” Jesse exclaimed, looking between both men with wide eyes. “Honestly, I’m surprised you two wanna do this. As... Uh, as long as the two a’ you don’t try to do anything _too_ crazy, I think I’ll be fine. Couldn’t ask for anyone... Er, couldn’t ask for two people more trustworthy than the pair of you,” he chuckled shyly, unable to meet their gazes.

“Well then,” cooed Hanzo, voice all velvet and honey. His hand found itself on Jesse’s right thigh, rubbing slowly but with intent.

“Let us take care of you,” Han finished, tone just as sweet and soft. His hand made it’s way onto Jesse’s left thigh, rubbing up and down just as slowly, but in the opposite pace to his twin’s. “We will not go too far today, anyway.”

“Right now, it is all about you,” rumbled Hanzo, much closer than Jesse had thought.

The great thing about being the same person was that they thought very similarly; they were more than ready to make their sweet little Jesse’s head spin. It helped that they got along rather well, all things considered.

While Hanzo began to shift, his younger self distracted the cowboy with slow kisses and sweetly murmured nothings. Deft hands familiar with the task slowly set about removing Jesse’s shirt, using Han’s distraction to his advantage. Before McCree knew it, the sleeves of his button up were being pushed down his arms and he shivered a little in anticipation.

Jesse relaxed significantly when Hanzo’s familiar weight pressed up behind him, the cowboy’s body easily leaning into his warmth and strength. He already felt as if he were walking on clouds, two pairs of familiar hands lulling him into such a state of contentment that he could have sworn he was dreaming. While Hanzo got to work folding and setting the shirt aside, his double started working on Jesse’s pants, abandoning his lips to focus on undoing the metal button keeping his jeans closed. His lips weren't unoccupied for long though, his husband seamlessly leaning in to kiss him deep and perfect, hands roaming all over his hairy chest.

Calloused fingers rubbed at Jesse’s collar bones and dipped into the divot between them before walking down to trace his nipples, the touch barely there. Soon Hanzo’s hands had double handfuls of Jesse’s firm and generous pecs, kneading the muscles there lazily. Warm lips met the hot skin of the gunslinger's neck and peppered sweet and gentle attention to it, heated little kisses interspersed with tiny licks and barely-there nips that left his husband keening quietly under his breath. By the time Jesse fully registered that his shirt was no longer on his body, his pants were already halfway down his thick thighs.

McCree hazarded a glance down and almost choked on his own damn spit. There sat the assassin, all black-rimmed eyes and glinting, gleaming piercings, staring up at him with such unrestrained lust that his hips rolled involuntarily. Jesse had only been on the receiving end of that look from his husband a handful of times, and each one had left him drooling, cross-eyed, and begging for release. To have it aimed at him now from a face so hauntingly familiar and simultaneously strikingly foreign sent pangs of confused arousal through his system, thick brows furrowing as he watched the younger man move. The cowboy knew he shouldn’t but he chanced a glance to his right and had to try his damnedest not moan on the spot. Hanzo was making the exact same face, expression damn near starved as he sprinkled loving attention to the scarred and freckled shoulders he loved so much.

Twin growls rumbled lowly in the air, that electric, ethereal feeling of the spirits making themselves known once more. Jesse suddenly regretted waiting so long to satisfy his husband’s and his assassin’s needs; if he had known he’d been depriving the dragons of satisfaction, he would have suggested this ages ago.

“I can tell your boys are a bit peeved,” Jesse finally managed to mumble, voice feeling like it was muffled under a pound of cotton. “All four of ‘em.”

“Mmm,” Hanzo hummed in mock thought, teeth coming out to bite a little more firmly. “Perhaps you should apologize to them,” he said jokingly, nibbling at his scruffy jaw.

“Nah, don’t think I should. ‘Least, not if it gets me two damn gorgeous men makin’ me feel like a million bucks,” Jesse snickered, shimmying to help Han remove his pants. He blushed a little when his underwear went with them, suddenly unable to meet either archers' gaze. “Ain’t you both a little over dressed?” He wheezed, eyes closed and bottom lip wedged between his crooked white teeth.

“Perhaps a little,” the assassin murmured in agreement, placing kiss after loving kiss to Jesse’s soft thighs. “But this is for you, Jesse.”

“Do not worry about us, my big strong cowboy,” Hanzo tacked on, hand over Jesse’s heart. “I can handle myself,” he assured, and hell if the double implication behind his words didn’t make Jesse’s happy little heart flutter or send his mind racing. If he had caught the look that Hanzo sent to his younger self, or the one that the assassin sent back, the gunslinger would have died on the spot.

Jesse was in for a memorable evening. 

“Tell us, Jesse,” Han piped up, lips dangerously close to Jesse’s balls, so close that his hot, wet breath ghosted over the flesh. “How do you wish to be treated? Tonight is all about you after all.”

“We want you to feel better than good, my heart, tell us how to do that for you,” Hanzo whispered, rubbing circles over Jesse’s hairy sternum.

“I think you’re both doin’ a mighty fine job as is,” he grumbled, lips feeling like lead as he sank further and further into both of the archers' ministrations. He honestly felt as though he could die happy, loved and praised as he was. _Praise._ Oh, didn’t that sound lovely? He shivered at the thought.

“Tell us what you are thinking,” they both said in unison.

Jesse bit his lip harder, shook his head. “S’embarrassin’,” he whispered, cheeks hot.

“Oh Jesse, nothing is too embarrassing,” assured the assassin, rubbing his hairy thighs and soft hips lovingly.

“Won’t you tell us what had you shivering so prettily for us?” Hanzo pressed, hugging the gunslinger close.

“Hanzo... honey, Han sweetpea, please,” he croaked, cheeks almost crimson.

“Please what?” They asked in harmony once more.

“Treat me real special like,” he whispered, voice so tiny that even their trained ears strained to hear it.

“If it is praise he wants,” the assassin rumbled, sitting back on his knees with an appreciative expression on his face. 

“Then it is praise he shall get,” Hanzo finished, fingertips ghosting the hollow of the cowboy’s throat.

The balance both men had between them was really doing something for McCree.

“Relax,” they encouraged, and Jesse could do nothing but comply, virtually boneless as he melted into the blanket beneath him and his husband’s warm chest.

Gentle lips at the ankle of his right foot startled him into opening his heavily lidded eyes, wide whiskey pools staring in shock at the younger man literally bowed at his feet. “Han, y-you don’t gotta do tha--”

He was cut short by a single finger against his full lips.

“Hush, my heart,” Hanzo said, free hand roaming. “He wishes to praise every inch of you. Let him,” he explained, hand falling. He leaned forward, his own lips touching the shell of a blushing ear. “You deserve his every kiss and then some, you know. I suppose that I should commit his path to memory, trace the same road with my own lips, shower you with the affections you deserve.” His hands began to wander, nails dragging through thick chest hair, down a deceptively soft stomach and toward the prize at the end of his treasure trail. “What some men and women would not give to be married to you,” he sighed, fingers teasing just above the base of Jesse’s half hard length.  

“When I return to my home, I am soon to be just as lucky a man as your husband,” Han mumbled against a hairy, freckled and scarred calf.

“Is it bad that we have taken both versions of you? If it is, if it is greedy and unfair, well,” chuckled Hanzo, “then we do not care; we never were good at sharing anyway. I would want you all to myself, every single version of you. We are so lucky to call you ours, you know. There is not another man that I could ever envision myself with.”

Jesse was already shivering, eyes screwed shut and cheeks a violent shade of red. Calm, warm, dry lips traveled up to one thigh before starting all over again, lips meeting the jutting bone of Jesse’s left ankle. Strong hips flexed and a pitiful sound oozed from Jesse’s mouth, muscles tensing and relaxing as the assassin traced a mirrored path up to his left thigh. Hanzo’s hands were a constant presence, never ceasing in caressing or tracing every part of Jesse’s body that he could from his seated position at his husband’s broad back. Gentle fingers rubbed sweet circles down strong arms as soft lips wandered over softer hips and to a rhythmically tensing side. Nails trailed over white, hair-thin scars over Jesse's chest from wounds so old that their owner no longer remembered them, and smiling lips ran over newer additions that were jagged, raised, and angry. Fingertips roughened from years with the bow and countless climbs up cliffs and buildings alike smoothed over Jesse’s fuzzy stomach, both hands kneading the soft flesh that hid the strong muscle beneath.

A shuddering gasp fell from those dusky bitten lips, and Hanzo swallowed it down in a deep, gentle kiss. Jesse’s chest pushed forward when the man at his feet ghosted his lips over his length, hot puffs of breath teasing at him and making him whine into his husband’s mouth as his back arched forward. Staccato passes of warmth passed over Jesse’s steadily rising hardness as the assassin chuckled soundlessly between his thick thighs, mouth still tortuously close to where he wanted it but just not _there._

“Oh Han, sweetheart, baby, _please,”_ he whined, breaking the kiss as he sent a hazy, pleading look down to the man between his legs. A sinful laugh rumbled at his back and his expression fell further, almost desperate as his hooded gaze melded with the alternate Hanzo’s fiery one.

The assassin had mercy and leaned forward with a smirk on his lips before they parted and made contact with the silken flesh of Jesse’s cock.

“Look at you,” Hanzo whispered, voice deep and smooth. “So pretty for us,” he purred, one hand trailing back down Jesse’s slowly rising and falling chest to his hips and further still, fingers creeping down until they wrapped around the base of his husband's erection and held it steady for his double. “So hard for us, so _hot,”_ he rumbled, stroking Jesse once fully before the assassin on the floor leaned his head forward and took Jesse into his mouth.

Never in all his long years had Jesse had the pleasure of a mouth on him while those same lips whispered into his ears. His head was spinning, mind racing a mile a minute as he registered the familiar heat of Hanzo’s mouth around him and the timbre of his voice floating around him at the same time. He did everything in his power to still his hips, and he nearly cried when he felt something new roll over his hardness. The glimmer of metal through Han’s tongue that Jesse had caught earlier hadn’t been a figment of his imagination then. True to his suspicions, a single, rather large silver ball was felt rolling over his erection as the assassin paid loving attention to his length. Han groaned low in his throat, sending vibrations through his sensitive member.

It was an interesting spectacle for Hanzo, watching himself take inch after inch of his husband’s cock. Was that what he really looked like? Was this how Jesse saw him when he serviced him so? Lips spread wide around the ruddy girth of his cock, eyes hooded and glistening, roses under pale skin creeping down an equally pale neck until the flush sank below the collar of his shirt? If this was how he was seen every time, Hanzo thought, then perhaps he would blow Jesse more often; he looked _good._

Before long, Jesse was panting and moaning, one hand twisted in the blankets beneath him, the other starting to paw lazily at Hanzo’s still-clothed leg. The motion became repetitive, a nonverbal way of asking Hanzo to do something; what, the archer wasn't sure, but he could certainly find out.

“What is it, my Jesse?” He cooed, freeing one hand and lacing it with the one tapping at his cotton-clad thigh. Bleary amber eyes looked up at him and Hanzo smiled sweetly, bringing the knuckles of his husband’s hand to his lips. He kissed the ring on his finger and they shared matching dopey grins before Jesse remembered what he wanted.

“Want you to feel...” he trailed off, words temporarily lost when the archer between his legs pressed down as far as he could and moaned, forcing Jesse’s mind to go blank as the vibrations sent pleasure soaring through him. When his wits returned and he could think, he continued, “Want you to feel good. Both a’ you, please,” he mumbled, voice small but pleading. He punctuated his desire to both of them by rocking his hips back against Hanzo’s crotch and pressing the toes of his right foot against Han’s groin, eliciting twin moans from each of them.

“We do not want to overwhelm you,” Hanzo wheezed, uncomfortably aware of how hard he was now that Jesse was grinding against him. A sound similar to that of someone in pain fluttered into the air as Jesse continued to rub his foot up and down the hard line in Han’s jeans. Jesse himself looked smug, even blissed out as he was.

“If I can handle one of you, sug, I can handle two. You said tonight was all about me, didn't ya? So gimme what I want.”

“Confident words for someone so close already,” Hanzo murmured, a laugh clear in his tone.

Jesse was about to retort, really he was, but then Hanzo’s double angled his head _just_ right and instead of a snarky reply, out came a shaky, breathy moan that he couldn't have hidden even if he tried.

“Are you so sure you can truly handle us both?” Hanzo asked, one hand cupping Jesse’s slack jaw, the other tweaking a dusky nipple. Their combined efforts forced another warbling sound from the cowboy's throat, the noise spurring them further.

“Yes, yes, _god yes,”_ Jesse babbled, nodding furiously. “Please, I want you both. I caught what the two a’ you were sayin’, somethin’ about takin’ it slow and waitin’ 'till next week,” he inhaled deeply to catch his breath before continuing, “and I honestly can’t wait that fuckin’ long. I’m more’n ready, I want you both and I want you _now.”_

A long look was shared between Hanzo and his double before the man with piercings slowly leaned back and released Jesse's cock with a loud pop, tongue piercing swirling one last time around the head before he leaned all the way back with a grin in place. His gaze bore into Jesse’s with unrestrained lust, and the man shivered against his husband's chest. A grin split pale lips. A twin expression was felt against his freckled shoulder and Jesse’s desire was only enhanced.

The alternate Hanzo shifted, his form-fitting black shirt soon finding itself on the floor. Amber eyes tracked muscle and ink hungrily, seeing his husband’s double without a shirt for the first time since his arrival. He was just as well-built as Hanzo, equally strong, arms just as ridiculously well muscled and toned. His tattoo was still present but not the same. It resided on the same arm and spilled over onto his chest and down to his wrist the way Hanzo’s did, but that was where the similarities ended. Instead of intricate scales and roiling clouds, his skin harbored the visage of a demon, detailed and vicious as it snarled from his left pectoral and melded to his shoulder into a sea of thick smoke. Gone were the strikes of lightening and crackling thunder, gone were the talons and whiskers and piercing, ageless eyes of the mighty spirit. Instead, somehow captured by ink and flesh were the emotions tied to the demon. Ferocity, strength, fear and power and something otherworldly. Jesse was mesmerized. He’d have been content to just stare and stare until the sun burned out, but the assassin shifted and hungry whiskey eyes once again caught the telling glimmer of metal.

“Hanzo, I think you oughtta consider maybe getting some piercings,” Jesse whispered, leaning forward as if in a trance. Both archers chuckled as Jesse took it all in. McCree knew that the assassin’s jewelry had to go beyond the generous amount of metal in his ears, but he hadn’t known how far. Han’s nipples were pierced, metal barbells stark against pale skin and dark ink alike. The metal made his nipples so much more noticeable, highlighting how perfectly pink they were. If Jesse drooled a little, well, no one said anything.

A cursory glance up gave Jesse the chance to see two pairs of clavicle piercings, metal balls resting prettily on his collar bones. A look down showed Jesse that Han had a piercing in his belly button, and the cowboy was resolving to have an honest-to-god discussion with his husband about getting him some metal of his own because god _damn_ did it look good.

“Like what you see?” Asked the archer, head tilted.

“Fuck yes,” Jesse said, licking his lips with a nod.

“Hmmm, careful my heart,” Hanzo whispered, managing to get his own shirt off without getting too far away from Jesse's warmth. “I might get jealous.” He was teasing of course, but Jesse listened nonetheless.

When Jesse settled back against his husband, he quickly found that somehow, he had also gotten his pants off. How, he would never know, but he wasn't in the habit of complaining about good things. He returned his attention to the assassin on the floor and watched in awe as he stood between Jesse’s spread thighs and slowly rolled his tight-as-sin jeans down his narrow hips. The look in his umber eyes could only be described as starved, gaze burning into Jesse’s with so much lust that the cowboy's cock twitched visibly.

All three now naked, the anticipation was really starting to settle, at least to Jesse. He couldn't tell if there was an ounce of nervousness or awkwardness in either Hanzo, both so turned on that he couldn't read any other emotions aside from lust, desire, hunger, and love.

“Why don’t you come up here, Han? Bed’s big enough for all of us,” he offered with a crooked smile. “We don’t bite,” he assured.

“Not too hard,” Hanzo tacked on with an evil smile. He scootched back until there was enough room for Han to get on the bed with them. The assassin gladly climbed up, sitting thigh to thigh with the cowboy.

Jesse quickly realized that he needed to stop looking down or hazarding glances at either man next to him, because when his eyes dared to stray from Han’s face, he just about died and went to heaven; or hell, whichever would take him sooner. The assassin was, Jesse found, just as well-endowed as Hanzo. He stood thick and tall from the surrounding neatly trimmed black hair, the head a bright, deep pink just like Hanzo’s own length, curved prettily toward his navel in a way that had Jesse drooling as if on command. But the difference between the two was almost too much for the poor man to handle. If Jesse had thought he’d seen the last of Han’s jewelry, he was dead wrong. Up the underside of the archer’s pretty cock climbed a set of _seven_ twin balls, which, upon closer inspection, gave way to the seven barbell rungs of a ladder piercing. The one in the middle caught Jesse’s eye the most; it was a bright sapphire set, glittering innocently and accenting the jet black of the other six pairs.

“Hanzo, if you get some’a your own jewelry, you had better get these,” Jesse said, tone one-hundred percent serious. If the piercings on Han felt even half as good as Jesse thought they looked, there was no way in hell that he wasn't going to beg his husband to get his own set. Hanzo hummed lightly in agreement, and soon that uncomfortable blanket of quiet settled over the trio once more.

Before Jesse could break the silence by rambling on and letting their nerves slowly get to them, Hanzo took the initiative himself and spoke up.

“Jesse,” he cooed, "hands and knees. Face him,” he ordered, strong hands rubbing at McCree’s thighs and soft hips.

“Yessir,” Jesse moaned; _this_ was what he wanted. As quickly as he was able to in his dazed state of arousal Jesse changed his position according to Hanzo's firm instruction, facing Hanzo’s double with parted lips and hooded eyes. He gripped the sheets on either side of the assassin’s scarred thighs and watched him almost lazily. His lips fell further apart when he heard the telling click of their lube, and he bit down on his bottom lip when a single slick finger just barely teased at his hole. The man in front of him smiled fondly and stroked his oaken hair, earning a sigh of pure bliss from Jesse.

McCree relaxed immediately when the first finger gently pressed inside, shoulders untensing, muscles going slack. He pressed the side of his face against Han’s thigh, watching the archer with glazed eyes. The archer watched back, seemingly content to just tangle his fingers in Jesse's hair and scratch and massage at his scalp. The lack of rush, the easy pace and gentle atmosphere, it all had Jesse at a loss for words. He felt so _needed,_ having two people, two _gorgeous_ people doting on him, and he was honestly having a bit of a hard time comprehending that not only one but _two_ men wanted to please him of all people. Jesse was about to put voice to these thoughts, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, Hanzo added a second finger and began slowly scissoring and twisting them. Instead of sappy words, Jesse’s vocal chords gave way to a moan so sweet and long that it had both of the archers' biting their lips to hold themselves back.

“Tell me,” Hanzo piped up, addressing his twin self. “Is he not beautiful?”

“I don’t think that that is much of a question,” the archer replied smoothly, continuing to pet the soft locks spilling onto his lap. “Of course he is. Have you seen him? _Perfection,”_ he rumbled, leaning down to kiss a flushed, freckled cheek. “Ah, you should see his face right now,” another kiss followed by a breathless moan from the gunslinger. “Flushed and panting so pretty. And his _eyes,_ open but just barely.”

“A pity that he is facing away from me,” Hanzo snorted, teasing a third finger at Jesse’s entrance in a way that made the man whine. “I envy you, he always makes the most _lovely_ expression when I get to three,” he sighed, something almost longing in his tone. True to his words though, Jesse’s slack, peaceful expression of silent pleading twisted into one of pure euphoria, thick brows knit together, pretty amber eyes squeezed tightly shut, a lewd grin on his full lips as sweat slowly beaded at his temple. Jesse moaned loudly and canted his hips back to press the triple digits in further, greedily squeezing around them to urge Hanzo to thrust them in and out at a faster pace. The stimulation had Jesse falling from his hands to he elbows, hot puffs of breath fanning out over Han’s pierced cock. The air in the room crackled with ethereal power as both men tried and failed to keep themselves in check, tattoos very slowly beginning to swirl to life as the mounting desires of the dragons pulsed through them both.

 _“Fuck,_ you weren’t lying,” wheezed the assassin, shifting uncomfortably as a single pearly drop formed at the tip of his dick, threatening to bead up and dribble down over his length.

“I never do,” replied the archer, tone just as strained. He complied with Jesse’s apparent wishes, thrusting his fingers faster until he established a quick, deep pace. The squelch of lube as he moved brought blushes to all three of their faces, and Han was trying his hardest to keep from pulling the hair in his hand.

“Impatience will get you nowhere, Jesse,” Hanzo mumbled, clipped and short with poorly attempted restraint. “I am not of the mind to have you hurting just because you cannot wait.”

“Yeah? ‘N what if I said I’m more than ready for you to take your fingers out ‘n fuck me good and proper?” Came Jesse’s cocky, breathy response. “I’m almost certain that Han over here is just about dyin’, he’s so hard, and I think he’s about as ready t’get this show goin’ as I am. You wouldn’t want to keep us both waiting, would’ya? I’m a big boy, I can handle this.”

His words earned him a deep growl from his husband, the archer in question shoving his fingers in as deep as he possibly could. Jesse groaned low in his throat and let his forehead fall to Han’s thigh with a dull, fleshy _thunk!_

“Fine,” Hanzo hissed, removing his fingers so slowly that it left Jesse whining and wiggling for some sort of stimulation. “Let us begin then. Get back on your hands, please.” Jesse did as he was told, lifting himself back onto his mismatched palms with a sly grin on his face.

The alternate Hanzo made a note of the extreme similarities between his McCree and his older self’s Jesse. Cocky, cheeky, blunt; the only difference really seemed to be their professions, and even then, this Jesse had a love for baking like no other. If the two cowboys ever met, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get them to leave one another alone.

“Why don’t you put that mouth of yours to good use, Jesse?” Hanzo suggested, slicking himself up with the excess lube on his hand before lining up, the head of his cock rubbing teasingly at Jesse’s slick and well-stretched entrance.

“Y’know, I think I just might do th-- oh _fuck,_ sugar, honey, pumpkin, _there,”_ he moaned, cutting off his own snarky retort with a breathless slew of pet names and whispers.

Hanzo had snapped his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt in one fluid motion that left both of them breathless. The assassin watched with wide, hungry eyes, gaze tracking every minute shift in the muscles of Jesse’s back and shoulders. Metal fingers gripped a scarred thigh tightly, spreading Han’s legs wider and forcing the man to cant his hips forward to stay balanced. When his pierced length rubbed up against Jesse’s cheek, he couldn't hold back the moan that came rushing forth from his parted pink lips.

“So damn _pretty,”_ sighed the gunslinger before he tipped his head forward and took the angry pink head of Han’s cock between his plush lips, tongue swirling around the crown greedily. He moaned at the taste, lapping up the pre that had trickled down. Then he really got to work, intent on showing this Hanzo just how good he was with his mouth.

Amber eyes once more closed, he tried to send as much focus as he could to working Hanzo’s twin over, tongue going flat as he slowly sank down the hot length of silken hardness. He groaned with every barbell that rolled over the slick muscle, sending vibrations through the assassin that had the poor man panting already. More bitter pre hit his tongue and Jesse nearly cried; five months was way too long to go without sex, and now that he knew how it felt to be deprived, he never wanted to go that long without it again.

A particularly deep, powerful thrust on his husband’s part had Jesse sinking even further down Han’s length, the tip just barely grazing the soft flesh of McCree’s throat. The last rung of the ladder clicked on his bottom teeth and Jesse’s resolve to take Han sweet and slow broke. Steel fingers crept up a scarred thigh until they met a tightly clenched fist. He massaged it open and dragged the splayed fingers toward his hair, settling Han’s palm heavily in his messy brown locks.

“Is there something wrong? I can...” the assassin trailed off when he looked down at Jesse, words catching in his throat. The gunslinger's eyes were burning with desire, a challenge in their honeyed amber depths that had the assassin’s dragons coiling and growling inside him, tattoo swirling faster. He knew what Jesse wanted then, and nodded quickly as he settled onto his knees and brought his other hand up to tangle into the soft strands of Jesse’s unruly hair.

“That’s it,” Hanzo purred from behind them, leaning over to nip at Jesse’s flushed shoulder. “Show him how good you can be for us, Jesse, show him that you’re a good boy,” he rumbled, picking up the pace of his hips. The gunslinger whined pitifully, the praise going straight to his cock. Jesse loved being called a good boy, loved being told he’d done well and wished to have them both praise him for his efforts.

Jesse relaxed his throat and closed his eyes, breathing heavily through his nose as the assassin began to slowly fuck his throat. Hanzo’s pale fingers curled around his neck and both of them groaned; Han was big enough that he made Jesse’s throat bulge externally with each deep thrust into the silken heat of his throat, Adam’s apple jutting even further forward each time the archer settled his hips against the gunslinger’s face. McCree was all misty eyes and spit-slicked lips, a fine line of drool trickling from the corner of his mouth and into his beard as Han steadily upped the pace. He was being speared from both sides and was loving every second of it, body sucking them both down greedily, urging them to feel the pleasure he felt. Hazy amber met pitch black and Jesse moaned loudly around the archer’s cock, sending torturous vibrations through the man before him. The fingers in his hair tightened and the painful pleasure of the action only made the cowboy moan louder, hips swaying from side to side, clenching around his husband who had to bite down on Jesse’s pulse to stifle his own sound of desperation.

By some eerie stroke of fate, Hanzo and his double unintentionally managed to sync up their movements, filling Jesse at the same time. The room was filled with the slap of skin against skin accompanied by the wet slurping and sucking sounds coming from Jesse’s perfect mouth. What few words that the two Hanzos managed to grind and groan out were all for Jesse, every breathless syllable and deeply growled vowel meant for his ears only. And hell if it didn’t set the coil in the gunslinger’s stomach on fire, liquid lust crawling through his system until he was on the verge of breaking. By the sound of things, neither archer was much better off, four hands gripping at soft hips and softer hair desperately as their voices mingled and twisted until Jesse could no longer distinguish either voice from the other.

“I, _fuck,_ I can’t k-keep going,” Han groaned, hips bucking forward into Jesse’s mouth frantically. His twin’s hips moved just as quickly, hitting Jesse’s deepest walls dead on.

“N-Nor can I,” Hanzo wheezed, arms struggling to keep himself steady. “Jesse, are you close?” He whispered, hips an unstoppable force against the curve of his husband’s ass. Jesse whined in what he hoped was a sound of confirmation, unable to nod and unwilling to pull away to verbalized his answer. He was so close that it ached, stomach curling, mind hazy. Both archers took the sound for what it was and kept going, desperate to make Jesse and themselves feel good. The room was all panting and sweaty slaps, loud echoes of skin and the vibrations of deep moans until the lewd song crescendoed and peaked, all three men so horrifyingly close to their orgasms that they had no words left to say, only left to their base sounds of pleasure and desire, of their shared need for release. Jesse had tears in his eyes by the time the assassin was coming down his throat, hot spurts of release sliding down his tongue in a way that had him shivering. He lapped at the head of the pierced length greedily, licking up every last drop of bitter white until Han was shaking from over stimulation.

Han slumped back and watched with heavily hooded eyes, smirking at the look of broken ecstasy on the gunslinger’s fiercely blushing face. There was drool and cum dribbling from his lips into his beard, sweat dripping down his neck to the comforter of the bed beneath him. His eyes were open but unseeing, so glazed over that he would have been better off closing them than trying to keep them open. He couldn’t close his mouth for the life of him, left mumbling little nothings, whispering a mantra of “please” and “Hanzo.”

Just as Jesse was about to snake a hand down to finish himself off, Hanzo’s fingers snapped closed around his wrist. “You will not touch yourself,” he growled, fucking him as if their lives depended on it. “Be a good boy and cum for us untouched, Jesse, I know you can do it,” he whispered, pace still brutal as he leaned over the broad expanse of McCree’s back. In contrast to the slap of his hips, Hanzo kissed gently over Jesse’s neck and shoulders, even down the first few knobs of his spine. The tears in those amber eyes spilled over, the desperate need to join the man in front of him in pure bliss forcing every emotion to bubble out of him.

“Now,” he hissed, teeth sinking into Jesse’s shoulder. “Cum _now,”_ he rumbled, his own hips stuttering until he was coming too, filling his husband up generously. Jesse followed immediately after, coating the blanket beauty him in cum. He fell forward, cheek pressed heavily into the blanket as he fought to catch his breath and calm down.

“You did so perfectly for us,” cooed the assassin, leaning forward to swipe Jesse’s sweaty bangs out of his face. He traced the freckled curve of the gunslinger’s cheek, rubbing his thumb back and forth under his closed eye in a soothing manner.

“You did so well,” Hanzo agreed, “you were so good for us.” As gently as was possible, Hanzo slid himself out of Jesse, kissing the man’s lower back sweetly. He rubbed his hands up and down Jesse’s still-trembling thighs, hoping to calm him and bring him down from the high of orgasm.

Everything from then on was a blur to the cowboy. He recalled being picked up, heard bedsheets and blankets get replaced, felt himself get laid down on a clean bed. He remembered warm hands massaging him, but he couldn’t remember who the hands belonged to. He knew he’d been cleaned up rather thoroughly, but wasn’t sure when, how, or if it was the alternate Hanzo or his husband. Before he passed out, he recalled feeling safe and warm, sandwiched between two warm chests under a warmer blanket, held close by each man by equally strong arms, remembered praise and gentle words of love and kindness until he drifts off feeling safer and more loved than he had in the last five months.

Pale light fluttered down over small potted succulents from the windowsill and slanted over three sleeping faces, the warm yellow rays of morning signaling that it was time to wake up. Hanzo stirred first, followed by Jesse who shifted and woke his husband’s double. Three pairs of eyes blinked open and closed slowly, processing what had happened the night before. Both archers shuffled closer and held Jesse close, pressing kisses all over his upper body.

“Are you alright?” They asked in unison, making Jesse snicker.

“Very,” he snorted, kissing Hanzo and his double on the cheek. He rolled until he was facing the ceiling and snaked his arms under both of the snipers, rubbing their backs slowly. “Can’t say I wouldn't wanna do it again,” he muttered after a while, grinning cheekily at both of them.

“We slept in,” Hanzo noted, glaring at the clock. They’d missed breakfast.

“I will cook for us,” Han piped up immediately, picking up on Hanzo’s train of thought.

“Damn, and here I was gonna make us all pancakes,” Jesse sighed in exaggeration, making all three of them laugh quietly. “S’pose I--”

He was interrupted by a set of frantic, sharp knocking at the bedroom door. Hanzo and Jesse shot up, followed quickly by Han who had faltered at the sudden sound. They all shared a look of concern and rushed around the room to at least look half decent. Hanzo approached the door first and opened in, his double and his husband directly behind him. Before them stood a frazzled and tired looking Mei and a suddenly embarrassed Winston. Lena popped up from behind the two and gasped.

“You all look like you’ve been attacked by lions!” She squeaked, flushed brightly and avoiding eye contact.

Both Hanzos and Jesse looked down at themselves and cringed. Lena hadn’t lied, they all looked like they been attacked, only it hadn’t been lions.

“Try to ignore it,” Han sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Just uh, just tell us what had ya’ll tryin’ to tear down the door,” Jesse piped up, quite clearly avoiding any kind of eye contact with the three people standing before them.

“Right! Right, that,” Winston agreed, shaking his head before he dove into it. “We wanted to tell you that all of our combined research efforts have payed off; that is, we have figured out a way to return the other Hanzo to his rightful place. If you would like to get dressed, we can further discuss this in the conference hall.” The scientist couldn’t help but smile at the looks of shocked relief that colored the three faces before him, and if he caught tears in any eyes, well, he didn't say anything.

“We’ll be there in a jiffy,” Jesse finally managed to choke out, eyes red rimmed. He grinned at both the men next to him and they nodded at the trio in the hallway, everyone saying their temporary good-bye’s until they would meet once again in the conference hall. 

When the door closed behind them, Han sagged against its sturdy frame, a hand held over his chest where his heart was beating wildly.

“We did it,” he wheezed, voice all tired rasp and excited breathlessness. “We actually did it! I am going home! _We did it!”_

“We... we must get dressed! We have to hear the details, we have to get you home! We shouldn’t waste any more time, imagine how worried your Jesse is,” Hanzo said, speaking so quickly that both the assassin and McCree struggled to keep up. He had already shoved his prosthetic feet through the holes of a pair of torn jeans, and was rooting around in the closet for a shirt. The sheer amount of excitement in the room was enough to have the dragons rumbling restlessly, Han’s smokey tattoo swirling much faster than his double’s.

They all dressed in record time, practically racing to the conference hall. By the time they arrived, they were all panting and flushed, stumbling into the room together rather loudly. Their excitement was so tangible that even Angela couldn’t help but grin, bouncing on the balls of her feet despite how clearly exhausted she was.

“This,” Winston’s deep voice spoke up, the gorilla motioning to a machine that had created some form of rift in reality, “is your way home, Shimada-san.” The assassin watched it warily, uncertainty clear on his face. “I highly doubt that you want an in-depth explanation on how we managed to bend the time-space continuum to produce a temporal rift to your proper time and dimension. So there’s, ah, someone on the other side of the portal if you want more solid proof that it’s real and that it works.”

The assassin looked between Jesse, Hanzo, and Winston, and when all three nodded encouragingly, he made the first step toward the rift. It shimmered in hues of blues and purples, turquoise and fuschia that bled and blended with reality itself. The closer he got, the more he realized that it was humming, _singing_ with energy that coursed through the room and made him feel like he was walking on air. Hanzo and Jesse were not far behind.

When he finally stood before the portal, jaw clenched and hopes high, he could have cried. There, on the other side of the rift in reality stood a teary-eyed Jesse McCree, still covered in flour and powdered sugar from baking. The assassin failed to hold back his tears, cheeks blotchy as the first of the salty wetness slid down and got lost in his facial hair. They both stood staring at each other for what felt like an eternity, silently crying and trying to appear stronger than they were.

Lena popped in and out without anyone noticing, placing the alternate assassin’s belongings next to the portal before anyone could worry about rushing and forgetting anything.

“Come here,” Han choked out, some desperate, broken part of him needing confirmation that this was all real. McCree had begun to move forward the moment Han’s lips had started to move, and before he knew it, they were hugging and sobbing and making it hard for the rest of the people in the room to keep from wiping their misty, red-rimmed eyes. The force of the hug would have knocked any lesser man to the ground, but the archer returned the embrace just as fiercely, balancing it all out.

Hanzo held his Jesse’s hand as he watched the two reunite, thumb stroking over the ring on his finger. Watching his double come back together with his fiancé only confirmed for him how much he loved his husband.

“Five months,” the other Jesse choked, face buried in Han’s chest. “We’ve got five months worth of cookies to eat. We’re gonna drown in ‘em, I swear.” He chuckled weakly, trying to cover his emotions with humor and sweets.

“Five months is far too long, and I am so, _so_ sorry, Jesse,” the assassin replied, stroking McCree’s back gently.

Angela was misty eyed as she slowly began to leave the room. She had only been there to make sure that crossing the two planes of existence would be safe, and to make sure that either the alternate Hanzo or the alternate Jesse didn’t get hurt through it . Now that the two men were safe and together again, she wanted to go tell her own fiancé how much she loved her.

Eventually, the pair stopped hugging each other like their lives depended on it and stood to face their slightly older selves, although they stood close and their hands couldn’t seem to let go.

“So the big guy here told me all about you,” McCree blurted, motioning to Hanzo and Jesse. “S’good to see that I’m still handsome as all hell no matter where I am,” he chortled with a wink. Jesse winked back and the two laughed in unison. The sound made both of the archers watch their respective partners lovingly. “I think it’s even better t’know that I’ve got Hanzo no matter what. I uh, I wanna thank both a’you for puttin’ so much effort into getting him back home. I only wish I knew more about space-science n’ time bullshit so I could’a tried to help.” He glanced away shyly when he finished, twirling a lock of chestnut brown hair nervously.

“I think that as long as you kept your bakery runnin’ and sent good vibes to your man, that you did everything you could.”

“I do not believe it was as though you _knew_ what had happened; Jesse is right, you kept going and as such you did all that you could. No one could possibly fault you for doing that,” Hanzo reasoned, smiling warmly at McCree.

“Speaking of bakeries,” the other Hanzo interrupted with a small smile of his own, “is that where this portal opens up to?”

Winston, wholly unprepared for questions, snapped back into reality from the depths of his own mind with a handful of rapid blinks. “Yes! Yes, it opens in the back room. But I am sure that McCree could have answered that; we gave the poor baker quite a scare when the rift first formed.”

“And it is safe to go back and forth between here and there?” Han asked, an idea brewing in his head.

“As long as we keep the machine running, I believe that the answer is yes!”

“One last thing, can this machine be used again?”

“I certainly don’t see why not,” Winston said, slowly catching on. Hanzo, Jesse, and McCree were slower to follow.

“You stay here, I have a few things to grab for you from home,” the archer said, taking McCree by the hand and leading him into the back of the bakery. They returned shortly with matching grins and multiple index cards in their hands, as well as two small brown paper bags. “I promised you some recipes, if I recall correctly,” Han announced, handing Jesse the index cards. They were all labeled with lovely handwriting, and the recipes themselves made Jesse’s mouth water from the lists of ingredients alone.

“He tells me that the two of you share a sweet tooth,” McCree chimed in, handing the bags to Hanzo who opened one and gasped. It was full to the top with various kinds of the baker's pastries and other sweets. The aroma from the bag was heavenly, making Hanzo doubly sure that he had a date with a plate and the goodies in his hand. McCree simply grinned and returned to his fiancé’s side.

“We cannot thank you enough,” Han said gently, grabbing the bag of his belongings that he had noticed on their way back from the bakery. “I know it is sudden, but I am quite eager to return home and catch up with my fiancé. Please, if you ever need another archer and I’m not busy, try and get ahold of me. Heaven knows that I enjoyed my stay, however unexpected it may have been.”

“The big guy says this machine can be turned back on, so I think the lot of you will be gettin’ a visit from us real soon. Y’all just lemme know if you need me to cater,” McCree said with another charming wink, linking his hand with his husband-to-be’s as he slowly began to leave through the portal again.

Hanzo and Jesse watched them leave with fond looks and small waves good-bye, thanking them profusely for the gifts and the kind words. The portal stayed open for the time being, Winston still studying bits of it and already working on improvements now that he’d been informed that it would be getting more use in the future. Jesse and Hanzo had left to go try out the goodies they’d received, and the cowboy was more than excited to make a few of the recipes he’d gotten.

Winston was content to just leave the portal open while he worked until he hazarded a glance inside and got more than what he could have asked for. He blushed underneath his fur and closed the portal, deciding that he could work on the machine at a later time.

In the other universe, Hanzo had been pinned to a counter in the back of the shop, Jesse’s soft hips pressed between his spread thighs. They kissed as if their lives depended on it, so desperate for one another after having been separated that they just couldn’t stay apart for a moment longer. The ‘open’ sign had long since been flipped to ‘closed,’ so they risked no chance of being interrupted by customers or nosy passersby.

“Five months,” Jesse rumbled, lips latching onto Hanzo’s throat to leave behind a possessive, dark mark. “Five months without you was like five months of bein’ starved, sweetheart,” he groaned, holding him as close as their bodies would allow.

Hanzo canted his hips forward, rubbed their clothed crotches together until they were both panting and breathless, hands fumbling with clothes to rid their bodies of their cloth confines faster. Nails raked skin, fingers tracing scars and tattoos as if seeing them for the first time all over again. Strong thighs bracketed soft hips and dragged Jesse impossibly closer, their lengths hidden only by their boxers. Soon, even those found themselves on the ground as their owners held each other and just drank in every little detail, relishing in the feeling of skin against skin.

“You don't wanna know how many things I thought of while you were gone, sugar plum, don’t even wanna think about how many different ways I imagined this going the day that you came back. I was so worried about you, baby, was scared sick. I never wanna lose you again, Hanzo, not now, not in twenty years, not ever.”

“Oh, Jesse,” Hanzo whispered, holding Jesse’s face between his strong hands. His thumbs wiped away the tears that were scattered on his freckled cheeks. “I am so sorry. I will never do this to you again, if I can help it.”

When Jesse’s lips met Hanzo’s again, it was full of every single emotion that he’d had over the last five months.

**Author's Note:**

> I RETURN


End file.
